Ruined (The Eternal Balance #1)(27)
I climbed down one step at a time, readying myself for anything.
It looked just like any other storage space. Rows of boxes, a few pieces of old furniture… And three women. All naked.
All dead.
I’d seen a lot of bloodshed in my life. Hell, I’d been the cause of most of it, but what I found at the bottom of those stairs was enough to turn my stomach five times over. They were stacked on top of each other. Piled like garbage in various states of decay.
Next to them was a pile of hair. No. Not hair. Entire scalps. Demon trophies. I let out a breath and sucked another in, holding it. I was a monster in every sense of the word, but this… I backed away slowly, unable to tear my eyes from the gruesome sight. Even my own demon, who was usually excited by the sight and smell of death, was quiet.
I started backing toward the staircase, eager to get out into the fresh air, but something on the table in the corner caught my eye. A small bracelet. It was a tiny red-and-black dream catcher attached to a double black leather band. There were two small charms. Leaves.
I remembered the first time I’d seen it. I was fourteen and at the county fair. The woman at the booth explained how dream catchers were believed to siphon the bad dreams away. It’d been the perfect gift for Sam.
She’d been wearing it the night I left town. When I arrived home a few days ago, I noticed its absence, but simply assumed Sam removed it when I never came home. But obviously I’d been wrong. She must have been wearing it the night she was attacked on the Huntington campus.
I’d missed it. The attacker on campus had been a demon. But why? It made no sense. What could demons possibly want with Sam?
Chapter Twelve
Sam
Pacing. A nervous habit that drove Aunt Kelly nuts, I couldn’t stop doing it. From the kitchen to the front door. Front door to bedroom. Bedroom back to kitchen again. Pretty soon there would be a rut in the floor a mile deep. I’d tried Jax’s cell phone five times since Chase dropped me off but there was no answer. It was almost 6:00 a.m.
The weight of what had happened last night—or, what almost happened—was starting to settle, and if I stopped moving, I was sure I’d go into shock. It made sense to think the person who attacked me would want to silence me if he thought there was a chance I saw his face. Had he dragged in a friend to help?
I stopped in the middle of the living room and let out a scream of frustration. Childish? Sure. But it helped. At least, a little.
Grabbing my coat, I headed toward the door. Pacing the room wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I needed to find out who this wacko was. Maybe one of the security cameras at the club had gotten the license plate of the car by the Dumpster. Or maybe someone had seen something funny while my car was parked out in front of McCarthy’s the other day. Big-girl boots on and laced, I reached for the door, determined to get some answers.
“Sammy,” Jax said as she threw it open.
“Holy crap!” I jumped back, startled. I was relieved to see him, thankful that he was here and in one piece. Not that I let that show. “Oh my God. Skulking on the other side of my door? A little freaky don’t you think? Even for you…”
He pushed past without waiting for an invitation. “I don’t skulk.” Turning, he winked. I hated it, but despite the fact that it’d been the night from hell, the quirk of his lip and curve of his cheek sent my heartbeat racing. “I loom. Much sexier, don’t ya think?”
I closed the door and backed into the living room. “You also jump from cliffs.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I was going to get to the bottom of it, but I’d planned on using a bit more tact than that. Grilling him for answers was the best way to get none.
His expression darkened and he drew himself up, a hulking, broad-shouldered figure looming against the pale violet walls of the apartment. Beautiful and dangerous. Along with cocky, and arrogant…
“Jump from cliffs? You sure you didn’t slip in a drink or three back at that club?”
I had done a few shots—my main excuse for asking for that kiss—but I was stone-cold sober by the time we ended up over that cliff. “I had four shots between getting to work, being assaulted by your tongue, and getting heaved over the cliff.”
He stepped closer, right eyebrow rising slightly above the left. Just like when we were younger, the expression never failed to send a spike of fire shooting through my veins. “Assaulted by my tongue? As I remember it, you asked for it…” Straightening, he added, “You went over the side and were lucky enough to end up in the water instead of smeared across the rocks. I made it down to the bank and pulled you out. End of story.”
“I—you—that is not what happened!” I yanked off the jacket and pushed forward, jabbing a finger at his chest and refusing to be sidetracked by the ripple of muscle on the other side of the fabric. Muscles that were so close… Flattening my hand, I savored the feeling beneath my palm. His heartbeat thumped. A steady rhythm that seemed to be increasing—much like my own. The urge to slip my fingers beneath the material and revel in his warmth was like an itch I needed to scratch. My breath caught. Butterflies roared to life in the pit of my stomach, and even though there were more important things to focus on right now, my limbs just wouldn’t respond. “I know what I saw.”
That whole refusing-to-be-sidetracked part didn’t work out so well. “What you saw?” He pushed against my hand. “Tell me, what did you see?”